


see you in the dark

by jgszx (simkjrs)



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow, 斉木楠雄のΨ難 | Saiki Kusuo no Sai-nan | The Disastrous Life of Saiki K.
Genre: Comedy, Crossover, Drama, Dramedy, Gen, maladapted teenagers having interpersonal problems, now in multimedia!, saiki has problems and issues: the fanfiction, saiki is placed in a carefully constructed sandbox, that forces him to confront his problems and issues: the fic, we have it all folks, you dont need to know either media property to enjoy this story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27628591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simkjrs/pseuds/jgszx
Summary: The point is: I’m different from her. I’m different from every parahuman on this Earth, in fact. Of all the superpowered people on this planet, there is still not a single one like me.I’m sure that you, as a savvy reader, have noticed my phrasing by now. This Earth? you may be asking. Yes. This Earth, as one among many. This dimension is a different dimension from my own.That’s the biggest thing to complain about, really. I’ve accidentally hopped dimensions, and I don’t have a clue how to get back home.Saiki Kusuo's efforts to live an ordinary life are constantly being thrown into disarray, and this is the worst incident yet. Not only have his malfunctioning psychic powers thrown him into another dimension, they've changed the genre entirely. What's it going to take to get back to his usual comedy show?
Relationships: Alec | Regent & Saiki Kusuo, Taylor Hebert & Saiki Kusuo
Comments: 44
Kudos: 180





	1. 1.1 A TroublePSIme Development

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. I have not been able to stop thinking about Saiki Kusuo for the past week. Accept the results of my brain melting between my ears.
> 
>  **WARNING: AUTHOR HAS NOT READ WORM.** "Why are you writing a Worm crossover if you haven't read it?" It's a great setting for exploring Saiki psychologically, and that's all I want to do. I'm not completely without knowledge of Worm -- I've read the first couple arcs, some of the wiki, plenty of SB fanfiction, and what my friends who have read Worm have told me. I'd like to get the broad strokes right, but I'm not overly concerned about getting the smaller details correct. Sorry if that bothers you. Feel free to offer up corrections but be aware that I'm playing fast and loose with canon.
> 
> If you enjoy the story, please leave a comment letting me know what you liked. Having engaged readers is a big motivation for me to keep writing.

Psychic power. For instance… hearing other people’s thoughts, or seeing what’s on the other side of a wall, or even manipulating objects through power of will alone. A power to do what normal people can’t. That’s what I have.

My name is Saiki Kusuo, and I am an esper.

Q: Are you a chuunibyou?

A: No.

I’ve lived with this power my whole life. Some of you might be thinking, “How lucky! With that kind of power, you could do anything you want!” Right? Wrong! Do you know how annoying it is to always be hearing people’s thoughts, or constantly seeing through skin and muscle until everyone simply looks like walking sacks of bones? Not to mention each power comes with its own downsides too. Read the manga if you want to learn more. In any case, having psychic power has done nothing but inconvenience me since the moment of my birth, and is barely any help in my pursuit of my dream to live a completely ordinary life.

That said, thanks to my psychic powers, nothing bad has ever really happened to me, so I don’t really have anything to complain about.

Well, there is one thing.

“Saiki. How did your part of the project go last night?”

As I haven’t brainwashed the people of this world into ignoring me speaking directly to their minds with telepathy, I can only respond through physical gesture or by speaking with my actual voice. I don’t particularly care to do the latter, so I simply nod in greeting.

Here, Hebert. Take this packet of papers with all my work so you can look over it and calm down your paranoia about me ruining your grades, and so I don’t have to speak.

As you may have guessed, the one speaking to me is named Hebert. Taylor Hebert, to be exact. Since this is a story and not a manga or anime, I’ll describe her for you. She’s tall for her age, thin, and has long, curly black hair. As for her facial features… She probably has a wide mouth, but I wouldn’t know, since my X-ray vision is always on and looking at anyone for longer than a second means I start seeing through their skin down to their muscle and bone. Thanks to that I’ve never bothered to memorize people’s faces very closely. I can identify them by their thoughts anyways.

So why are you complaining about Hebert? you might be asking. Is she a bad school partner? Does she smell bad? Does she have a romantic inclination for you that you can’t maneuver your way out of no matter how hard you try, like a certain blue-haired perfect pretty girl loved by God?

None of the above. There’s nothing wrong with Hebert herself. She’s capable, diligent, and introverted, which suits a shy and withdrawn student like me. No, the problem is the trouble that she comes with.

Here they come, right on cue. Hess has walked by and bumped Hebert just a little too hard, almost jostling the papers out of her hands. None of that, now. I’ll help Hebert keep ahold of them with a little telekinesis. I worked hard on those papers, you know. No knocking them down.

“Oops, sorry, we didn’t see you there, Taylor,” says Barnes sweetly. “I guess we just didn’t notice you, what with how plain and ugly your clothes are…”

And there they go, starting up with one insult after another. They’re not even very good insults. Well, carry on a bullying campaign for a year and a half and you’ll eventually run out of material, I suppose. It’s still quite annoying to hear themselves congratulating themselves for a job well done with each insult, though. Like this, with Barnes…

_< Hehe. The look on her face. She’s totally self conscious about how she looks, now. I wonder if she’ll go cry in the bathroom later?> _

That’s not something you should be proud of, you know. The level of self-congratulation sure is amazing. Actually, what’s more amazing is how shamelessly they bully Hebert right in front of others. I’m right here, you know? Not that I want them to notice me, but it’s the principle of the matter.

I shift in my seat slightly, which successfully draws their attention away from Taylor for a moment.

“Oh, sorry, Saiki,” Barnes says. “Were we interrupting a moment between you two?” Yes, our homework consultation time. “Nah, who am I kidding? No one would ever get together with flat-chest over here.” What’s the big deal about the size of someone’s chest? One mass of fat and muscle is basically the same as another; if there’s a little more or less, who cares. “You’re still working with her on this project? You can do way better than her.”

Is that so? Certainly I could find a partner with better grades if I wanted, but I don’t want good grades. I want ones that are completely ordinarily average. Standing out is the opposite of what I want to do… although, being partnered with Hebert, I’ve already failed step one. What a pain.

“Yeah,” says Clements. “Haven’t you heard how bad her grades are? She never turns in anything on time…” That’s because you steal her things. “And she cheats…” That’s because you frame her after you copy her work. “And when she does turn in original work, the quality is so bad, she might as well drop out and join the Merchants!” That’s because she has to redo her work after you destroy it. Who has the time to redo everything perfectly a second time.

The bullies all seem to think this is very clever though, laughing at Hebert. It’s actually quite incredible that anyone could be this cliche.

Hebert has lowered her head. … It’s only natural to be worn down after months of this treatment, I suppose.

_< Damn it. Why did they have to do this in front of Saiki? Now I’ll lose another partner, too. Can’t I have just one class without having to worry about them?> _

It doesn’t really make a difference if they do it here or in another classroom, Hebert. I can still hear it with my telepathy. This bullying case is even worse than Akechi’s. At least Akechi had acquaintances who would help him in the aftermath. But no one steps up to help Hebert.

“Hey, it’s rude to ignore people when they’re talking to you,” says Barnes.

Ah, that’s right, they’re waiting for a response from me. Why did you have to drag me into this.

“Well?” says Barnes, putting a hand on her hip. “What do you think?”

Now that it’s come to this, I have no choice but to respond.

What should I do? Talk to her? I’d rather not make my first spoken words in this story to someone like her.

Ignore her?

_< This guy is ticking me off. If he keeps ignoring me, I’ll have to explain to him properly how it works around here…> _

That’s just trouble. How annoying.

With those two options off the table, you’ve left me no choice but to show you the power of an esper, Barnes. You brought this on yourself.

“Hey, she’s talking to you,” Hess says menacingly, stepping up to me and grabbing me by the collar of my shirt. “Or do you want to end up on the shit list like Hebert, here?”

  


  
I see. So you want to pick a fight with me?

  
**Then you better be prepared for the consequences.**

Hess flinches for a second, before gripping my shirt harder. “What’s with that look?” she says lowly. _< What was that?! Usually he just sits there passively with a blank expression. He doesn’t respond to anything. He’s totally prey! He’s basically air! But for a second there, I could have sworn…> _

“Don’t bother with him,” Clements says disdainfully. “I mean, if he doesn’t want to talk, he’s pretty much declared where he stands, right?” She smiles. Next to her, Barnes holds the papers I worked so hard on last night. She makes direct eye contact with me as she rips it into shreds. I have the feeling I’m supposed to be hurt by this action somehow, but this level of harassment is so petty it’s just sad.

_< That’ll show you not to mess with me. So hurry up and change your expression already…Hm?> _

She follows my gaze to the doorway behind her.

There stands Mr. Prescott, looking at the shredded paper on the desk.

That’s right. Behold the revenge of an esper.

“Miss Barnes,” says Mr. Prescott, “Care to explain?”

_< Damn it, it’s Shadow Stalker and her friends. I can’t turn a blind eye to this, but if I’m too hard on her, we’ll lose the PRT funding…>_

“Oh, Mr. Prescott!” Barnes says sweetly. “We were just messing around between friends. Sorry, it looks a little compromising, huh?”

Mr. Prescott’s gaze travels to where Hess is still holding my shirt. Hess lets go quickly and straightens up.

“Yes,” Mr. Prescott says slowly. “Well. There’s nothing wrong with having fun with your friends. But be sure not to disrupt class. Everyone be seated, then. The bell is about to ring.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Prescott,” Clements says, and the bullies disperse away from my desk.

_< At least they gave me an excuse not to do anything, but honestly, if you’re going to do anything, make sure I won’t see it…>_ Mr. Prescott, you sure do love that PRT funding, huh. What is with this school. So irresponsible.

_< What bad luck. Usually the teacher doesn’t get here for a couple minutes more,>_ Barnes thinks. _< What was that timing?> _

That would be my doing. Using my telepathy, I nudged Mr. Prescott into deciding to walk over a few minutes earlier than usual. Of course, now he’s thinking about how he’s strictly not entering the classroom until after the bell has rung because he wants to avoid seeing trouble like that again, so it seems it was a one-time use trick, but it’s enough to make everyone back off for now.

_< That Saiki, he didn’t even flinch. It’s like he knew Mr. Prescott was coming.>_ There goes Hess speculating about me again. _< Or it could just be his face. He always looks like he just smelt something foul. I don’t think I’ve seen him change expression once. Or heard him talk, for that matter.>_ A pause. _< Wait, is he mute?> _

She feels a moment of shame. That’s right. You should feel bad.

_< …Typical. How weak. He’s got to be prey after all.> _

Wow. What a character.

Hess, for someone who likes to call herself a predator, you’ve sure got bad instincts.

“I’m sorry, Saiki,” Hebert says to me as Mr. Prescott sets up the projector. “It’s my fault your work got ruined.”

_< Why’d he have to catch their attention like that, anyways? If he’d just kept his head low, maybe I could’ve gotten through this class’s project...> _

Your resentment is saying something totally different. I don’t hold it against her, though, since anyone would gather up resentment after being bullied for so long. It’s only natural to lash out against someone you can actually have an impact on instead of the people whose fault it actually is. At least she’s only doing it in her mind.

_< No, what am I thinking? It’s the Trio’s fault. It’s just so frustrating. They’ve already ruined my notebooks this morning.>_ … It’s a tough life. I’m surprised at how reasonable Hebert is being even in the confines of her own mind, though. It’s okay to sling mud at me a little longer. I can take it. I’ve heard thoughts like that my whole life. Although, thanks for not blaming me for too long, I suppose. It would have been annoying to work with you while constantly hearing how upset you are with me. _< And now Saiki’s going to stop working with me, because he won’t want to be dragged into this. I’m alone again.>_

Hahhh, seriously, what a pain. I haven’t even responded yet, you know?

I shrug at Hebert, and then I reach into my bag for a spare sheaf of papers. With a bit of thoughtography, I copy the research I did last night onto the papers and pull them out.

Hebert’s eyes widen when I put it in front of her. “You brought a second copy.” The amount of relief she feels is a bit depressing. The suspicion that immediately follows, even more so. “Why?”

I slide my eyes to look at Barnes across the room, curl my lips into a slight sneer, and then turn my eyes back to the front, going back to my usual blank expression.

_< Emma? Wait, so he made preparations in case the Trio did anything?>_ Sure, let’s go with that. _< Then… Well. Of course he’s noticed the bullying by now. But if he knew what was going on, why didn’t he do anything earlier? Why now?> _

Sorry, Hebert. I’m not really a nice person. I don’t take action unless it directly affects me. You’ve gotten quite the selfish partner.

_< But at the same time… I guess if I was in his position, I wouldn’t be able to do anything about them, either. He’s only just transferred into the school, and I don’t think he has any friends.>_ Don’t say that with such a pitying tone. I don’t want any friends here. _< How would he even stand up to the Trio’s social circle? But he still stuck with me as a partner even though he knew. He made backup copies so we’d still be able to complete the project…> _

Hebert lowers her head at her desk.

_< And for a second there, I thought he really was going to fight Hess, too.>_ She noticed too, huh. Well, hopefully she’ll write it off as easily as they did. _ <That basically makes him the only person here to show me any kind of support, doesn’t it?>_ Just my luck. Of course she didn’t _. <Maybe if someone like him had arrived here just a few months earlier, the locker incident wouldn’t have...>_

Hebert, your life is seriously depressing. I haven’t done anything for you. It’s just a copy of my work, stop reading so much into it.

_< He didn’t have to go that far for me.> _

Seriously, it wasn’t for you. They were just getting me involved. It annoys me when someone thinks they can get the better of me.

“…Thanks.”

I said it wasn’t for you.

Whatever. I give her a curt nod and then go back to ignoring her. This is an important class to pay attention to, after all.

“Good morning, class. Welcome back to Parahuman Studies. As a reminder, your research project is due next Friday…”

_< I wonder why an upperclassman like Saiki is taking this class, though. Is he taking it for easy units, maybe?> _

Hebert, I’m trying to concentrate here.

_< Well, it is an elective class, so maybe he’s just interested in the topic. The research he did looked really thorough and well-cited, too. I wonder how knowledgeable he is? Maybe I’ll ask after class.>_ Please don’t. I’m a sensitive soul. If too many people try to engage me in social interaction in one day I’ll wither away and die. _< Who knows, maybe he even knows something that could help me with my debut.> _

Oh boy.

_< Yeah. I can’t put off debuting any longer. I’ve had these powers for long enough, it’s time I stop delaying and start doing something meaningful.> _

This is the other troublesome thing with Hebert.

What? you might be saying. Isn’t it cool that she has powers? Look, you can be friends, and you’re not alone anymore.

First of all, I’m not interested in being anyone’s friend. There’s nothing wrong with being alone. But no, the real problem is that she’s not like me at all.

  
**_< Shard:Queen_Administrator:<PROCESS_INPUT>>_ **

There’s some kind of entity attached to her brain, and it’s the thing that gives her powers. On top of that, she controls _bugs._

It’s not that I’m afraid of bugs. They’re not particularly disgusting either. Not much more than seeing people’s muscular structure every day, anyways. What really bothers me about them is that they’re so small I can’t read their minds or predict them. Birds, mammals, even fish? Sure. Bugs, though? Nothing. It’s way too creepy. I don't even want my psychokinesis to touch them.

I nearly refused to be her partner when I realized what she could do, but it turns out that by listening to this “Queen Administrator,” I can predict what nearby bugs are going to do and when. So it’s better to be next to her than not… even though it comes with the downside of knowing where every single bug in a two block radius is.

And there are so. Many. Bugs. Just my luck. I’ll never be able to relax again.

I’m getting sidetracked. The point is: I’m different from her. I’m different from every parahuman on this Earth, in fact. Of all the superpowered people on this planet, there is still not a single one like me.

I’m sure that you, as a savvy reader, have noticed my phrasing by now. This Earth? you may be asking. Yes. This Earth, as one among many. This dimension is a different dimension from my own.

That’s the biggest thing to complain about, really. I’ve accidentally hopped dimensions, and I don’t have a clue how to get back home.

——

How did I get here? you might ask. Well, it’s a simple answer, really. For all of you manga readers, you may recall that in chapter 206 my limiter device malfunctioned and resulted in me acquiring a wide variety of inconvenient and useless powers. One of those powers? Dimension hopping.

But that’s not useless at all! you might be crying. Imagine the possibilities! The riches you could acquire! The fame you could accrue! The technological development you could facilitate!

With my powers I could make money in hundreds of different ways, easily. I don’t need dimension hopping for that. And why would I get myself money anyways, when I can just acquire what I want directly with my powers?

That’s why I don’t bother with riches, and fame is just annoying because of all the attention. And I wouldn’t want to help facilitate technological development. That would require me to reveal my abilities in some capacity, and you should have realized by now that I would much prefer my privacy.

In any case, I accidentally dimension hopped here. I managed to use one of the other “useless powers” to fix my limiter device so my psychic powers worked properly again, but now I can’t figure out how to get home. I don’t know how to break my limiter in the right way to get the dimension hopping power back, and I don’t want to risk it either, since my powers without the limiter device are uncontrollably strong and I might end up irrevocably changing this world if I’m not careful.

Oh well. Kuusuke will probably find where I’ve ended up, eventually. The best thing to do is stay in one place until then.

——

After a long and harrowing day at school of blending into the background, I’ve finally arrived home.

“Home.” In reality, it’s just an abandoned house that I fixed up with my psychic powers. No one knows I’m here. Well, that’s fine with me, though.

Finishing all my homework is easy, so I take care of that first. Then I read some books. Then it’s dinnertime. Dinner is a simple matter of taking some plants I gathered and deer meat I hunted from a forest on the other continent the other day, and stored in my “refrigerator” of ice I made from my cryokinesis. Then I just have to cook everything with pyrokinesis in an iron pot I bought with some money I got from cheating the lottery with my clairvoyance and X-ray powers.

It’s quiet without my noisy and troublesome family around… Well, I’m always complaining about them, so I don’t have the right to complain about them not being here.

There’s really not much to do. Maybe I should get myself a computer so I can go look around that PHO forum that people are always thinking about.

Speaking of Hebert, didn’t she say she was going to debut tonight? I guess I’ll check in on her. It would be annoying if my project partner got herself killed on her first night out, after all. Let’s see…

Crossing my eyes, I activate my clairvoyance. Where is she… Aha, there.

_“--shoot the kids.”_

<What? He’s going to murder children?! I know that’s Lung I’m going up against, but I can’t just sit here and do nothing…!>

**< Shard:Queen_Administrator:<COMMAND>>**

Wait wait wait. Lung? As in the leader of that one gang, the parahuman who no one wants to take on?

Good grief. Hebert, you sure have a talent for getting into trouble. I’m trying to keep this story strictly comedy, or failing that, at least something that’s not too dark. You just had to go and change the genre back after all my hard work, didn’t you. What am I supposed to do here?

So much for a quiet, peaceful night.


	2. 1.2 Remember to be ConPSIentious of your Powers!

  
It turns out that Hebert can look after herself, and bugs are a terrifying weapon. I stopped watching after she started going for the privates. It seems that for all the mythos that surrounds him, Lung is still weak in all the normal places.

It sure takes some guts to aim for the crotch of the most notorious gang member in the city, Hebert. I underestimated you.

The next school day, Hebert shows up barely any worse for wear. Good for her. There she goes back to her locker with her head down. There goes one of the bullies trying to trip her. You know she took down a notorious gang leader this weekend? Just what do you think you’re going to achieve? She could crush you in an instant.

_< Endure it, Taylor. Don’t retaliate. You’re better than them.>_

... Well, it’s not as funny when I have to hear her thinking like that all day.

She’s so responsible about using her powers it’s honestly depressing. She refuses to use her abilities against any of her bullies because it would be unfair, and it’s wrong to use your powers like that, or something. It’s really not, Hebert. I use my powers for personal gain all the time. You should do something about the “Trio” already so I can stop tying their shoelaces together when they try to approach.

Hebert closes her locker door and raises her head as I’m walking. We make eye contact. Hey. Are you okay? That’s an impressively dead look on your face. Your eyes are almost as dull as mine. — Nevermind, they’ve brightened the tiniest bit. Why.

“Good morning, Saiki.”

Good morning. I nod cordially at her. Social interaction of the day achieved, I continue walking to the next classroom.

— Tch, those annoyances are approaching again.

Not that it’s my business, since Hebert seems determined to handle the situation by herself, but the universe ought to give her a break. She just took down a notorious gang leader. Give her some breathing room. I’ll just backtrack a few steps and tap Hebert on the shoulder.

Hebert blinks at me. “What is it?”

  
I jerk a thumb over my shoulder, turn, and walk away down the hall. After a moment of hesitation she follows me down the corridor, just in time to avoid Barnes and her cronies spotting us by the lockers.

_< That was good timing. If I’d stayed there, Emma would have come to bother me again. — Wait, did Saiki know she was coming? Is that why he called me here?> _

Stop being perceptive. I forgot you could keep an eye out on everything with your bugs. Tch, it goes to show I shouldn’t poke my nose in where I’m not needed. Now I have to come up with an excuse.

I turn around to face Hebert.

_< His expression is as serious as ever. I can never tell what he’s thinking.> _Good, let’s keep it that way. _< It seems like he had something to talk about, after all. Guess it was just lucky timing.>_

I reach into my pocket and pull out a piece of paper, etching onto it with thoughtography as I do. Hebert unfolds it, eyes flicking across the page.

“You want to study together this weekend?”

_< Is he serious?> _You don’t have to sound so disbelieving. Just say no if you don’t want to. That would be more convenient for me, too, since this is just a random excuse. _< Do we even share any classes besides Parahuman Studies? What’s he getting out of this?> _Absolutely nothing, so it’s okay to turn me down. _< He doesn’t feel sorry for me, does he?>_ Anyone normal would feel sorry for you if they saw what a daily ordeal your school life is. Don’t take it so personally. — Actually, feel free to. Hurry up and say no already. _< I don’t need his pity. If he feels sorry for me, then he should help me do something about the Trio.>_ See? There you go.

_< But I shouldn’t burn any bridges unnecessarily. He’s the only one to reach out to me after Emma started her bullying campaign.>_ Wait, no. Stop being reasonable. Go back to the prideful paranoia. You’re not doing me any favors, here. _< Besides, it’s possible he just wants a friend, too.>_ Absolutely not, who do you think I am?

“Okay, that’s fine.” _< If he wants to hang out, I guess it couldn’t hurt.>_ “Where do you want to meet?”

What did I just say.

_< Why does he have such a pinched look on his face. Was this a pity thing or a prank after all?>_

Good grief.

I indicate with pen on paper that I would like to meet at the public library on Saturday. She asks if 2pm is fine, and if it’s okay for her to leave early, because she has business to take care of. By which she means parahuman business. I really don’t want to hear what bad ideas she’s going to get up to, so let’s just move the conversation along for now.

“Okay,” says Hebert. “What’s your phone number? I’ll call you if anything comes up.” _ <Like if I have to go out in costume earlier than anticipated.> _

Ugh. This is why you shouldn’t have said yes, Hebert. I write on the paper.

“You don’t have a phone?” _< Huh. Didn’t think there was anyone in the same boat as me.>_ “That’s fine. A landline is okay too.”

Damn it.

“You don’t have one of those either?” _< What kind of place is he living in…?>_

Please don’t start questioning my living conditions. I’ll just write something down to alleviate her concerns.

“Oh, an apartment without a landline?” _< And no cellphone on top of that. It must be hard.> _No, it’s perfectly fine. I don’t want anyone contacting me. “Then I’ll email you if anything comes up. Is that fine?”

I nod.

“Alright. I have to get to class now, but thanks, Saiki. I’ll see you in Parahuman Studies.”

_< It’s strange that he doesn’t have any kind of phone at all, though. Is everything okay financially? His clothes seem fine, but you never know…> _

What a pain. Looks like I’ll have to take additional steps to integrate into this world, so I won’t draw suspicion so easily. Acquiring fake IDs was already annoying enough, and now this too?

You may be wondering why I procured myself some ID papers. It’s because I needed it to register for school. But why would an esper like myself bother enrolling in school again, when no one in this universe had to know I existed?

It’s true, I could have had complete freedom of time if I hadn’t committed to school. But you can only read books alone in your house for so long before you start to get bored. It was nice to have a few weeks by myself, but it felt weird not having a school routine.

Going to school keeps me somewhat occupied and reminds me what it’s like to have people around. To be clear, I didn’t register for school because I wanted company. I’m already so different from normal human beings that spending time with humans doesn’t mean anything. It’s like asking if you’d prefer spending time with a monkey in the next room over or not. I’m just here because I’m bored and I like to stick to my habits.

School comes with its own share of annoyances, although they’re much more serious than the gag series I’ve spent most of my life living. It’s none of my business, but if things keep being this bothersome, I might have to do something about it soon.

Hopefully Kuusuke will hurry up and find me soon so I can stop getting dragged into the circumstances of this world.

——

Hebert isn’t in Parahuman Studies. It only takes a quick skim of the minds near me to find out why.

“Oh, Saiki, it looks like Hebert ditched you today. Too bad. She’s such a horrible partner to work with, isn’t she?” Your words wouldn’t be the least bit convincing even if I didn’t know you were the one who made her upset enough to leave campus, Barnes. “If you want, you can sit with us to work.”

She smiles at me in what she thinks is a charming manner. I can’t tell, since right now she just looks to me like a diagram of the human muscular structure you’d find in a medical book. _< Take the hint. Taylor isn’t worth your time.>_ What does that make you. Chopped liver? _< I wouldn’t pay attention to him if not for the fact that he’s Taylor’s assigned partner. If I can lure him away from her, she’ll be devastated. We could even keep him in the group afterwards. I mean, once you look past those weird green glasses, even though he seems plain at first glance, he’s got a nice face.>_ No thanks. _< It’d be better if he didn’t have such a blank expression all the time, though.>_

Get a full load of my blank expression, then.

_< This silence is dragging on too long. Is he.... judging me?> _

Took you long enough to notice.

“It’s rude not to respond,” Barnes says.

I stare dispassionately at Barnes until she shifts uncomfortably. _< Maybe Sophia was right.>_ “What, can you not speak or something?”

Sure, let’s go with that setting. I give her a disdainful look. _Obviously._

<Why are you looking at me like that?! I’m one of the most popular, pretty girls in the school!> Is that so? I couldn’t tell from how rotten your inner self is. “Sorry, I didn’t realize,” Barnes says faux-apologetically. “How was I supposed to know if you didn’t even make an effort to tell me, though? Can’t you write, at least?”

How annoying.

“Did you just click your tongue at me?”

I’m hurt you would ever accuse me of such a thing. I write in my notebook and slide it across the desk towards her.

“You’re not interested in working with anyone? But you’re working with Hebert.”

Flat stare.

“--Oh, she was assigned to you. Right.”

_< Hey, doesn’t that mean this guy is a total loner-type? Come to think of it, he didn’t do anything the other day when we were confronting Taylor, either.>_ Confronting? Is that what you call it? _< All he did was look annoyed when we started talking to him. Ahaha, what a piece of work. He doesn’t care about Taylor at all.> _I don’t want to hear that from you. _< I don’t even have to do anything and he’ll leave her alone, too. But still…>_

“My friends and I can still help you finish your work more quickly, though. Then you’ll have more time to yourself in class.”

_<...It’ll be more satisfying if I’m the one behind it.> _

How unpleasant. I emphatically tap the word “anyone” written on the page.

  
“Come on, you can’t go through school without making friends with anyone.” Try me. “It’s better to choose your friends early. You don’t want to get caught up by the wrong crowd.” Somehow, I don’t think your crowd is the right one, either.

_Thanks for your concern,_ I write, _but I can take care of myself._

Barnes purses her lips. “Well, if you’re sure,” she says in a tone of voice that clearly says she doesn’t believe me. “But the invitation is open if you ever change your mind, ‘kay?”

She smiles at me before making her way back to her group of friends.

_< Let’s see if we can’t arrange for him to learn what this school is like…>_

What are you, a delinquent gang leader? I never thought I’d miss the days of PK Academy, but it would be so much less troublesome if the worst personality anyone here had was being a tad too obsessed with romance.

Not that it matters. Whatever Barnes tries, it’s not like there’s anything in this world that could touch me.

——

Because Barnes and her coterie were laughing about it in their heads all period, it’s easy to find the dumpster in the back of the school where they tossed Hebert’s backpack.

It stinks out here, and Hebert’s textbooks are all ripped up. Her art project is smashed to pieces, too. Barnes sure didn’t hold back.

The backpack and textbooks are easy enough to restore to their original state. The art project is a different matter. Checking it with my psychometry, it seems Hebert didn’t finish it until late last night. My restoration ability only reverts an object to its state from twenty four hours before; if I turn back the clock on the art project right now, it’ll be restored to a state from before she completed it. I’ll have to wait to restore it until later tonight.

So here I am, lying on my bed with Hebert’s stuff in my room.

  
What to do. I could drop it off outside her house, but if I do it anonymously it’ll raise all kinds of questions and if I do it in person I’ll have to explain how I knew where she lives. I could just hand it off to her at school, but…

I have a sudden, horrible vision of Hebert thinking that we’re friends, and immediately reject that path. Absolutely not.

I’ll just put her backpack in her locker so she’ll find it before class. That’ll also raise all kinds of questions, but way less than finding it outside her house.

Now, as for the other problem…

Barnes and her friends are popular, and they’ve got plenty of people who are willing to do them a favor. Annoyingly enough, Barnes’ network has talked about me enough in front of the right people that in a couple days, the ABB members at Winslow will start trying to recruit me. What a pain. And I’ve put in so much effort to fly below their radar, too.

It’d be easy to rebuff any attempt to recruit me, but that would just attract attention. Worse, if I show my skill, that might be even more motivation for them to keep trying. I’ll have to think of a way to avert the recruitment without making myself stand out.

That’s a problem for later, though. Right now, I’m more irritated that Barnes has caused this much of a problem for me, just because she wants to get at Hebert. Since recruitment usually starts off with friendly overtures, all she has to do is swoop in and pretend I’m solidly part of her friend group already to ward off any recruitment attempts, and then they’ll usually leave well enough alone. And then I’ll be so grateful for her help saving me from the big, bad ABB that I’ll actually consider her a friend… Not.

If she’d left me alone, I might not have done anything, but I won’t hold back now that she’s getting me involved.

Time to take her down.

——

The reason Barnes can get away with what she does is because of Shadow Stalker’s influence with the school administration. That means to dismantle the power structure, I have to knock Hess down.

First, let’s use thoughtography to create photos of the worst moments of bullying I’ve seen, with my clairvoyance or otherwise. Here’s one of Hess stomping on Hebert’s backpack. One of her pouring juice on Hebert with Barnes. One of… you know what, describing this is just depressing. No one wants to read through a litany of events that'll make them lose faith in humanity. Just trust that I’ve captured some truly unpleasant moments.

Second, I’ll use my clairvoyance to look around in the school office for the budget records, and copy them down with thoughtography, too. Hm, quite a difference between what they’re actually doing and what they’ve reported. I’m sure the PRT will be delighted to learn this.

Third, I’ll make a map of Hess’ stashes of definitely not approved crossbow ammo, discovered when I used clairvoyance on her the other day. That won’t be enough evidence by itself, but if I attach a list of victims, locations, and times, hopefully the PRT will be competent enough to put the pieces together. It’s not an exhaustive list, just what I learned from using psychometry on the bolts in her stash, but it should be enough.

Fourth, a list of things they should check: Hebert’s stint in the hospital, the communications between Hess’ handler and the school administration, Hess’ phone, and the unpleasant emails that Hebert gets every now and then.

And a note on top: _Your Ward is misbehaving. Clean up your mess._

Yep. That is a nice, succinct message that will get my point across with absolutely no problems.

As if.

This is one of the most annoying aspects of this world: the sheer paranoia around parahumans. Back in my original universe, people ignore strange happenings more easily, because they don’t believe in powers. Here, though? Powers are real and a fact of life. If I tried to use my hypnosis or mind control powers here, one of those “Thinker” parahumans would probably notice right away. No matter how I send this packet of information to the PRT, they’ll definitely suspect parahuman involvement, since quite a lot of this information should have been secure. They’ll be paranoid for days. They might even take my note as a threat.

Oh well, it’s not my problem. As long as I deliver it cleverly, they won’t be able to trace anything back to me, and I don’t plan on getting involved with them again after this either. If they spend a few months paranoid about a possible new threat, that has nothing to do with me.

So how to make sure that the PRT properly pays attention to this information when I deliver it? If I send it through the official channels, who knows how long it will take, and if I’m not lucky it’ll get lost or Hess’ handler will manage to bury it before it goes anywhere. On the other hand, I’d rather not deliver it directly to the heroes, either.

Let’s just do it like this then.

Altogether, the worth of these papers is about four dollars. So is this keychain I picked up from the side of the street. I’ll just turn invisible and go to the Boardwalk and toss this keychain over to the PRT headquarters floating in the bay, and then I can use my apport ability to exchange the keychain for the papers so that the papers arrive properly at their front doorstep. It’ll arrive with enough dramatic flair to make sure it doesn’t get written off, and I don’t have to interact with anyone. Perfect.

I toss the keychain across the water, but when I check with my clairvoyance, I see the keychain sinking down in the water instead of safely landed on the doorstep of the PRT like I intended. I didn’t throw with enough force? Damn, I can’t use my telekinesis to retrieve the keychain either, because I can’t use any powers besides telepathy while I’m invisible. I’ll have to look for something nearby.

There, a cheap ring being sold at a street stall. My apologies to the vendor, I’m taking this. Back to the beach. This time, I’ll throw with a little more force—

**_CRACK. BOOM._ **

  
I stare at the fading afterimage of a now-broken forcefield.

Shit.

Nothing for it now. I dash back home as fast as I can, and as soon as my invisibility wears off I exchange the packet of papers with the ring.

The ring appears in my hand, no problem. There, delivery successful. Err. Looking with my clairvoyance, it seems that the papers are half-embedded in the wall of the headquarters where the ring had previously buried itself inches deep. My bad. The forcefield breaking is my fault, so I’ll take responsibility. I’ll just fix it with my restoration ability…

Ah, wait, but restoring an object also restores everything it touches. If I restore the headquarters now, my delivery will go back to being blank pieces of paper, and it’ll all have been for nothing. Damn it, I should’ve fixed the forcefield before apporting my delivery over… although that would have required me to wait for my invisibility to wear off at the Boardwalk. Maybe I can exchange the papers and the ring quickly, restore everything, and then exchange them back? — No good, people are coming to investigate the papers already. If I apport right in front of them it might just make them panic more.

Good grief. I’ve made quite a mess for myself.

I’ll just have to make sure to fix the forcefield tomorrow… I’m sure it’s fine… They can live without their forcefield for twenty-four hours…

Oh, would you look at that, it’s just about time to restore Hebert’s art project. I’ll just go do that and put everything back in her locker.

Well, as long as that works out, hopefully today won’t be a lost cause.


	3. 1.3 A-PSImptions are a Dangerous Thing

Parahuman Studies is abuzz the next day. I’d never accuse this class of being full of diligent students, but apparently the… explosion… at the PRT headquarters last night was flashy enough to garner plenty of attention overnight, and now a good portion of the class is discussing it. Don’t you have anything better to talk about?

“Hi, Saiki,” says Hebert, sliding into the chair next to mine. “So what do you think of the attack on the PRT headquarters last night?”

Not you too, Hebert.

Apparently used to my taciturn ways by now, she keeps talking when all I do is glance at her. “The PRT hasn’t released any official statements, but apparently some of their employees on PHO said that the headquarters is fine and all necessary functions are still operational. Of course, that just means everyone’s wondering what non-essential functions got blown up.”

It was only one thing that got blown up. And why has everyone decided it was an attack already? Maybe it was an accident. On their part. I write down this theory in my notebook.

“An accident? How so?”

I suggest tinkering gone wrong.

“It’s possible,” says Hebert, “but there’s a Connections thread that calls that theory into question.”

With how many times PHO has been mentioned in this story, I guess I’ll have to deal with it at some point. For now, though, I’ll just skim Hebert’s mind for her impressions of PHO. It seems that Connections is just Cr*igslist Missed Connections for parahumans… Did someone try and contact me there?

“You should check PHO when you have the chance,” Hebert continues. “One of the Protectorate heroes made a post this morning.”

_< I can’t believe Armsmaster himself posted. The conspiracy theorists are going crazy.>_

Yesterday’s accident has become troublesome, as expected. If I’d known the PRT headquarters had an invisible forcefield I would’ve just delivered everything to a hero on patrol.

“I’m surprised you didn’t already know, though. Aren’t you taking this class because you’re a cape enthusiast?” _< I thought for sure he’d be up to date with the PHO boards.>_

You’re still here? You can stop talking to me now that you’ve finished giving exposition, you know.

_< He’s not answering. I know he doesn’t speak, but the fact he doesn’t bother responding half the time is what actually makes it difficult to talk to him…>_ That’s intentional. _ <Wasn't he the one who wanted to be friends?>_ No, that was a misunderstanding on your part. _< I think that’s just the kind of person he is, though. I’ll try not to take it personally.>_ No, it’s fine if you do. _< I guess he isn’t a cape nerd after all… He must be taking this class for easy units.>_

Satisfied with her conclusion, Hebert leaves me alone to sit at her desk. You’re actually wrong, Hebert, I’m taking this class because I needed a source of information about parahumans. The class has given me some helpful context since I arrived in this universe. It still hasn’t explained anything about the entity attached to your brain, though.

**_< Shard:Queen_Administrator:<PROCESS_INPUT>>_ **

These shard things broadcast so loudly I can hear them coming from 400 meters away. For those of you who don’t have the manga memorized, that’s twice my usual telepathic range. Parahumans are basically impossible to miss. With how loud the shards are, it’s amazing that any parahuman can remain anonymous for long… although, since it seems I’m the only one who can hear them, it’s not like it really matters.

In any case, I’ve gotten tangled up in a mess with the local parahuman law enforcement. What should I do from here, ignore this message or respond to it…?

I guess I’ll have to check it out after school.

——

So that’s why I’m at the public library now. The library is an excellent ally to me, since I don’t have any electronics or wi-fi at home. The fact that their computers are free for library users to use sure is genius. It took a while to figure out how to use the computers when I first got here, since I’ve never bothered too much with technology when I can do pretty much anything myself, but I can use them proficiently these days.

_< Hey, it’s the Luddite kid with no technology sense! He’s back!>_

Not enough to erase my impression on the librarian who helped me back then, though.

In any case, time to investigate PHO. I choose a computer in the back where it would be difficult for others to catch a view of my screen, and I navigate to the website.

… Does this forum seriously have a board for every major city in every major country? And topics for everything from world news to day-to-day conversation? What’s with this scale. You can’t try and consolidate all of your news and social media worldbuilding into one website. What kind of lazy writing is that?

Oh well, it’s as convenient for me as it is for the writers, so I won’t complain. Let’s check the Brockton Bay forums. It looks like the “PHQ Explosion” has become a hot topic. Plenty of people speculating in the responses: paranoia at whatever was strong enough to catch the headquarters off guard, jokes about some “Void Cowboy” character getting an infraction, worries about whether the gangs in the city will take the explosion as a sign of weakness…

Hm? One of those things was not like the rest. Well, no matter. I’ve seen the important parts. I feel a bit bad for my role in the whole mess, so if the forcefield going down results in anyone attacking the headquarters, I’ll take proper responsibility.

Now let’s take a look at the Connections board.

> **Subject:** Late-night Delivery
> 
> **Posted by:** Armsmaster (Protectorate ENE)
> 
> Postman:
> 
> It arrived successfully, but the delivery caused some problems. The whole thing has left stains on the carpet and we’d prefer not to remove it with a sandblaster when a gentler solution would do instead. Drop a message if you can. (Not in the same method as the last.)

  
I have barely any idea what that means.

Is the stain supposed to be Shadow Stalker’s misdeeds, or the fact that my delivery method was — perhaps — a bit threatening from an outside perspective? If they’re trying to intimidate me, they’re doing a poor job of it. On the other hand, it’s possible they’re having trouble with gathering information on Shadow Stalker even after all the hard work I’ve done for them. If that’s the case, they might as well be worse than useless, but I’d rather not have my work go to waste.

What a pain. I guess I’ll make an account and check everything is okay.

> **Subject:** Re: Late-night Delivery
> 
> **Posted by:** postman54171
> 
> What’s the issue? I gave you everything you should need.

I’ll check for a response tomorrow. In the meanwhile, I have other things I should… Ah, nevermind, I’ve received a message already. Isn’t that a bit too quick? Just how closely have you been monitoring this thread. Half the responses are totally irrelevant. Shouldn’t you have let down your guard a little?

> **Armsmaster:** Before we proceed with the conversation, please prove your identity.

What, you won’t prove yours first? Am I supposed to just believe the “Protectorate ENE” tag next to your username? Well, not that I need proof when I can just check myself. Seeing someone’s username is enough to use clairvoyance on them.

It’s a man in a workshop almost worthy of my brother’s. He’s wearing part of a costume that matches what I know of Armsmaster, and I can see the PHO chat blinking on one of the monitors he has in front of him while he’s working.

He seems real enough.

> **postman54171:** The papers concerned one of your Wards’ actions in her civilian identity.
> 
> **Armsmaster:** How many sheets of paper did you send to us?
> 
> **postman54171:** Is that really the kind of thing the average person would remember?
> 
> **postman54171:** It was 52.

It’s really annoying to use clairvoyance and telepathy at the same time, but I’ll do it just this once for the readers.

**_< Shard:Efficiency:<PROCESS_INPUT>>_ **

No, not you.

_< It’s them,>_ Armsmaster is thinking. _< Finally, after all of those impersonators.>_ People seriously tried to impersonate me? _< Asking follow-up questions was the right idea. One of the impersonators being a conspiracy theorist who guessed the reason for the delivery was quite a coincidence, but if I’d let my guard down it would have turned into a serious information leak.>_

Huh. The internet sure is scary. I’ll make sure never to spend too much time on here.

Armsmaster starts typing on his end, but it’s just meaningless pleasantries thanking me for “bringing light to a serious situation” and other such talk. I don’t care about that. Hurry up and tell me about the problem.

> **postman54171:** So? What did you contact me for?

Armsmaster pauses, and then with faint annoyance erases what he has written and writes another message. I go ahead and type my answer while I’m waiting, since I know from hearing his thoughts what he’s going to write.

> **Armsmaster:** Your manner of delivery caused damage last night. Given the circumstances, it’s understandable for you to be unhappy with us, but drastic methods could be taken as a declaration of hostilities.

Hostility would imply I find you much more important than I actually do. You’re more like a mousetrap I tried to set whose springs I accidentally broke.

> **postman54171:** It wasn’t a threat. I’m not interested in being the PRT’s enemy.
> 
> **Armsmaster:** Then why did you break the forcefield?

Ugh. What should I do here? … I don’t want to do it since it’s humiliating, but I suppose I’ll admit my mistake, since it’s my fault in the first place… although if they didn’t want their forcefield to break, they should have made it more visible. Design your defensive measures to be more user-friendly for psychics like me next time, will you?

> **postman54171:** I didn’t realize it was there.

_< They broke it on… accident? The implications this has for their capabilities is frightening. I’ll need to upgrade the threat assessment…>_ I just said I wasn’t threatening you. _< I need more information.>_

No, you really don’t. Time to end the conversation.

> **postman54171:** If that’s all, then goodbye.

_< Wait!>_

> **Armsmaster:** Wait.

You are so high maintenance.

> **Armsmaster:** What kind of consequences do you want to see for Shadow Stalker?

_< Before we decide what to do, we need to consider the intentions of the deliverer…>_

Don’t overthink this. Can’t you deal with it normally?

> **postman54171:** Why are you asking me? Just follow whatever procedures you already do.
> 
> **Armsmaster:** We are investigating everything properly, but when deciding a punishment, we’d like to take the victim’s feelings into account.

Wait. Victim? Don’t tell me…

_< The locker incident as a trigger event, and the motive for contacting us… it all makes sense if “Postman” is Taylor Hebert.>_

  
… Sorry, Hebert. I’ve made quite a mess for you too.

It’s true that Hebert is a parahuman, but I’ll have to come up with a convincing alibi so they don’t suspect her of my doings. If she gets outed to the PRT because of this, I’ll feel bad about my role in it. What a pain. Well, I brought this on myself, so I suppose it’s what I deserve… After all this trouble, Hess better get transferred out of Winslow at the very least.

> **postman54171:** I suppose you won’t believe me, but if that’s what you want then you should talk to Hebert, not me.
> 
> **Armsmaster:** If that’s acceptable to you.

Yes, it is.

> **postman54171:** Since that’s all you wanted to say, goodbye.

I log out of PHO before I can get any more messages from Armsmaster. He stares at the screen for a moment before closing the window as well. _< I didn’t get the chance to ask about their amenability to joining the Wards, or to ask about their abilities. The information gathering suggests Thinker abilities, but the delivery method suggests a Brute or Shaker power. It’s also possible they’re a Tinker—>_

Unfortunately for you, it’s none of the above. Let’s stop using clairvoyance on Armsmaster now. I’m tired of crossing my eyes.

The list of things I need to do gets longer and longer. Avoid ABB recruitment attempts, study with Hebert this weekend, and now making sure Hebert doesn’t get framed for my own meddling… Ah, I need to fix the PHQ forcefield too. Good grief. This is what I get for getting involved. I log back into PHO.

> **postman54171:** I forgot to say this earlier, but I’ll take responsibility for my mistakes. If you’ve done any important work since the forcefield broke last night, make sure to back it up or move it off-site before 9 tonight.

There. They might be able to figure out my restoration ability from this, but there was the chance of that happening from me using it on the forcefield anyways, so I might as well give a heads-up so they won’t lose any paperwork from me rewinding time. Not that I plan on getting involved any more after this, so it doesn’t matter even if they do figure it out. It’s got nothing to do with me.

What a mess… And I still have to do something about the fact that they think I’m Hebert.

I’ll think about the Hebert problem later. She’s given me enough of a headache for today. For now, I’ll think about the other big problem in my life.

I need to get a cellphone.

As shown when Hebert asked for my contact information, it would be extremely unordinary to not have a number at all. Plus, if the school administration tries to use the fake contact information on my paperwork, it’ll be a pain if they realize it doesn’t work… What a pain. I don’t like planning to integrate into this world more than I have to. It makes me feel like I’ll be stuck here longer than I’d like.

It would be absurdly easy to shoplift a prepaid cellphone from the store, but they have to be activated at the register. And it would be absurdly easy to steal money, too, but my mother raised me to be a better person than that. Still, since there are things I need and I’d like to buy some sweets for once, as long as I’m sticking to my morals I’ll need to make some money the civilized way.

Unless I find a convenient target who deserves to be robbed, I’ll just have to get a job.

But in order to get a job, judging from all the job postings I’m browsing online right now, I’ll need a mailing address and — you guessed it — a phone number.

How troublesome. So it ended up like this after all? Guess I have no choice…

——

After spending the evening cleaning out an ABB casino’s poker tables, I walk away from the building five thousand dollars richer. My apologies to the establishment. Well, just consider it compensation for the recruitment attempts I’ll be facing from your gang members at school.

I shake off the men tailing me before teleporting back to my house, undoing my transformation, and falling onto my bed.

  
What a long day…

I didn’t do much today but mentally I’m still tired. I can’t even rest yet, either. In a little bit, I’ll need to reapply a transformation so that I’ll be able to go to school tomorrow.

Hm? You’re wondering why? It’s obviously because my pink hair and purple eyes would stand out way too much in this kind of setting. Don’t tell me you forgot what I look like just because you’re not getting visuals every step of the way. And if you didn’t know what I looked like… hurry up and go watch the anime already. That’s six years of a mangaka’s back-breaking work you’re skipping over. He’d cry blood if he knew you hadn’t even bothered picking up a single chapter.

In any case, I’ve been going about my daily life while under a transformation. It’s nothing major; I just changed my hair to be black and my eyes to be dark brown. Basically, I went from this, to this:

  
Hey, this isn’t helpful. You can’t distinguish pink-haired me from black-haired me in grayscale at all. Don’t tell me this is some cheap trick so the author can claim that I was black-haired in the previous chapters all along. I was, but that’s not the point. Do it properly this time.

  
Don’t only add color to the hair and eyes and call it a day.

Fine, it illustrates my point well enough. I suppose picturing me with black hair shouldn’t be much of a shock for all of you manga-readers, but for everyone else, it’s still a bit of a surprise. Even I’m not used to looking at myself in the mirror and seeing everything the wrong color.

In the long run, it doesn’t really matter — it’s basically like temporary hair dye. But still... It’s been weeks since I’ve returned to my natural appearance. I don’t want to change back just yet.

I’m a bit tired of being unable to even show my face in public. I’ve thought about doing away with the transformation and going out as myself, but that would get way too much attention. I’ll admit I’ve even thought about using my mind control power again so my appearance won’t be considered abnormal… but I’m not so irresponsible about using that power anymore, and besides, at least one of those parahumans would likely realize something was wrong.

Still, though…

  
I wouldn’t hate it if I could go out as myself, just once, these days.

Ah, would you look at the time. I’ve got work to do.

I haven’t transformed yet though, and I can’t be invisible for this… well, no matter. Maybe I can…?

There’s some scrap metal lying around here, isn’t there? This won’t take long.

——

  
****[9:01 P.M. Somewhere in the Docks…]** **

[A lone figure appears, unseen.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ SPOILERS ] In case it isn't clear (and for those of you who are curious), the person who saw Saiki at the end is Alec (Regent).


	4. 1.4 An Unfortunate RePSImblance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A dip into the more serious side of things, before we get back on track for the comedy show. Some of Saiki’s abilities are extrapolated from the abilities he’s shown in the manga. See citations after the chapter.

For some inexplicable and probably plot-important reason, Hebert isn’t in school on Wednesday either. The upside is that Barnes and her coterie don’t know any more about it than I do. The downside is that, lacking her usual target, Barnes focuses her attention on her new target: me.

Well, I say that, but she hasn’t actually approached me. She’s just surreptitiously keeping an eye on me with a smug and knowing smile. Earlier she told her followers to step in and help me out if they saw me being troubled by anyone wearing ABB gang colors, but only after letting me be harassed for a while. Then once they’ve successfully rescued me, they should say, “Oh, it was no trouble to help out a fellow friend of Emma’s! In a place like this, we got to stick together.” Or something to that effect. It’s not very subtle, but I’d never accuse Barnes or her friends of subtlety.

High school is a lot more cutthroat than I remember it being.

Not that it matters to me. Barnes’ plans, and those of the ABB members interested in recruiting me, are quite simple to avoid. Every time I hear the thoughts of someone who’s looking for me, I just take a different route to class. I’ve honed my avoidance skills against my far more annoying classmates for over four years. This level of harassment is nothing.

The one place I can’t simply avoid interaction entirely, however, is in class. Which leads me to my current dilemma.

“Hi, Saiki, right? I noticed your partner hasn’t been in class all week, and mine ditched me as well. So I was wondering, do you want to work together today?”

This guy’s name is Tavion Masangkay. He’s basically a total background character. He keeps his head down, and is so inconspicuous that Barnes and her friends don’t even pay attention to him talking to me. They don’t suspect him of being a member of the ABB at all. Normally, I’d turn him down with no hesitation, but…

_< Today’s Thursday, and the project is due tomorrow. If I can convince him to partner up and work after school, then I can bring him to Bakuda… I shouldn’t feel hopeful about tricking someone else into conscription, but I really don’t want to die…>_

…This is making it really hard.

I project the name “Bakuda” into his head, crafted to sound like his own thoughts. His mind latches onto the artificial thought and conjures up flashes of memory: a woman in a gas mask, a scalpel glinting under the light, a sinking sense of terror watching a building crumble to dust. A robotic voice echoing: If you don’t bring me new recruits within 24 hours, that’ll be you, too.

_< I don't want the bomb in my head to go off. I’m scared.>_

Good grief. This setting is way too dark. So this Bakuda is forcibly conscripting people into the gang by planting bombs into people’s heads? If that’s the case the recruitment efforts will never stop until she’s taken care of. I’ll have to do something about her... I guess I’ll drop by after school.

But for now I’ll just reject this guy. _< He still hasn’t responded. Is he not interested? Did I do something suspicious?>_ No, I’m just psychic. Hm, what should I write? A simple ‘not interested’ should suffice… _< He’s so unenthusiastic, it doesn’t seem like he’s going to say yes… shoot. Please say yes.>_ Sorry, Masangkay. I’ve faced off against far more annoying and persistent people than you. You’ll have to do better than that if you want to sway my decision.

_< If it’s not you I bring, it’s going to be my little brother.>_

…

_< I don’t want to know whether I’m capable of doing that to my family.>_

_< He stopped writing. Did he change his mind about something? I can’t read his expression…>_

...I thought about someone troublesome.

I shouldn’t have tempted the narrative like that… but whatever. We’re focusing on Masangkay’s situation right now. He’s right; this isn’t a choice he should have to make, and as for his brother… well, even if it comes to nothing, he doesn't deserve to have to find out just what his brother was thinking about doing to him. ...I guess I’ll go along with Masangkay's plans just this once.

The relief and subsequent guilt that Masangkay feels when he reads what I write is just depressing. “Really? Thank you!” he says. “I’ll do my part, I promise.”

_< I’m sorry, Saiki. The least I can do is help you with your project after it’s all said and done.>_

Your mental apologies would mean nothing if your plan to hand me off to Bakuda actually succeeded, you know. But, well, it is a hard situation to be in if you don’t have psychic powers to help you out… Ordinary people sure have it tough.

Before class ends, we make plans to meet up after school and walk over to Masangkay’s apartment to work, and then we go our separate ways.

——

The apartment that Masangkay brings me to, despite being in the run-down Docks, looks completely ordinary. I wouldn’t have guessed that it was an ABB base if not for the fact that I can hear everyone’s thoughts, I can see the weapons stashes and thugs inside with my X-ray vision, and a parahuman’s shard has been inundating me with images ever since I came within range.

**_< Shard:Detonation:<IMPLEMENT>>_ **

Shards compress information in their thoughts much more efficiently than humans do. Just listening to the Detonation shard, it feels like a new technological sense blooming, like knowledge and possibility unfurling in my mind’s eye. How to create a bomb that will stop time. A bomb that will turn everything in its radius to glass. The beauty of a trigger that sparks to life upon the cessation of a heartbeat, or upon the detection of one.

“Okay, we’re here. This is the way to my apartment.”

And woven in this knowledge is an urge to make, and make, and make. An irresistible calling… at least, it might be if the shard was wired to my brainstem the way shards seem to be bound to parahumans. I’m simply receiving the backwash of the shard’s broadcast, but even that’s almost enough to make me want to build something myself. Sort of like getting a song stuck in your head and finding yourself humming out loud. It’s ultimately harmless — but it’s also unbelievably annoying.

“Ah, Saiki…?”

And apparently loud enough to distract me from Masangkay. I turn my gaze back to him. He smiles awkwardly and holds open the gate. “Here, it’s straight down at the end of the hall.”

_< Was I just being paranoid, or was he looking directly at Bakuda’s workshop just now? … Don’t tell me he recognizes this place? What if he’s already been conscripted… That sure would be awkward.>_

If that was the case, awkwardness would be the least of your worries. Is this even the time to be thinking about these kinds of things?

I follow him down the hall to the door at the end. From inside, I can hear the guilty resolve of those who are part of the gang now; I can hear the terrified thoughts of the ones they’ve brought, waiting their turns to be implanted with a bomb. _< Moment of truth,>_ Masangkay is thinking next to me, hand raised to knock on the door. _< I just have to bring him here and the enforcers will take care of the rest… I’m sorry, Saiki.>_

I’m sorry too.

With a chop to the neck, I knock him out and lean him up against the wall, then set my bag down next to him. Thanks for showing me the way here. You’ve saved me some searching. All that’s left now is taking down Bakuda herself.

It’s easy to unlock the door with psychokinesis. There are a few enforcers sitting around immediately inside, but it’s easy to knock them out, too, before they even realize I’m there. The conscripted are waiting in the next room over, with the door locked behind them; their thoughts turn uneasy when they hear the _thump_ of unconscious bodies falling to the floor.

Put up with the fear for a little bit longer. I’m not here to make you feel better; I’m here to get rid of a problem.

Bakuda has gone and done some annoying things, and it’ll most likely take more than one minute to get that information out of her. Since I can only erase one minute of memory at most with my power limiter on, I’ll have to cover my face. The metal chair over there should do for material. With a thought, I rip out part of the metal and reshape it into a mask over my face, one that’s mostly featureless except for two narrow eye slits and a pair of wide horns that curl back to hide my distinctive antenna from view.

When I designed a mask on Tuesday night, it was just on a whim so I could go out for a few minutes without having to hide my hair. Who knew I would be using it again so quickly. If I have occasion to use it again in the next few days, I’m definitely filing a complaint against the author.

But, well, as long as my face is hidden, it should be okay to undo my transformation for a while, right? … Yeah. It feels good to be myself again, even if it’s only for a while.

I step over the bodies on the floor. A gesture of the hand, and the traps attached to the entrance of Bakuda’s workshop disable themselves. The door unlocks itself and swings open with a creak.

“I told you idiots not to touch the fucking door,” Bakuda says. “If I waste one of my precious bombs on some moron too dumb to follow… the instructions…”

_< No one should’ve been able to open the door without permission from me.>_

**_< Shard:Detonation:<PROCESS_INPUT>>_ **

I catch the two grenades she throws at me mid-air with my telekinesis, and skimming her mind and the shard’s for information on how they work, dismantle them before they can go off. The disparate pieces clang loudly as they fall to the floor.

Bakuda backs up. She unhooks more bombs from her bandoleer with fumbling hands; these, I don’t bother waiting for her to throw them before I pull them from her grasp and dismantle them too. “Who the fuck are you?!” she screams, reaching back towards her workbench for a wrench. What do you think that will do against me? Gesturing, I toss the table away from her with contemptuous ease, and then before she can make a break for it, levitate her up into the air.

She curses until I shut her up. She thrashes until I make her stop. She hangs there limply, watching with her heart pounding jackrabbit-fast as I pluck the bombs one-by-one from her bandoleer like grapes. A constant, low-level prompt to think about the trigger mechanisms for the bombs keeps her thinking about the correct way to take them apart, and soon her fear and paranoia over how I know the structure of her creations is so great she doesn’t need my prompting to think about it anymore at all.

Releasing my psychic grip on her jaw, I project my thoughts into her head, crafted to sound like I’m speaking out loud, and ask who she’s conscripted.

“Fuck you, asshole!” she snarls. “I bet you’d like to know, huh?!” _< As if I’d keep track of every nobody I’ve used as part of my plans!>_ “Well, too fucking bad—”

Fine. How are you keeping track of all the bombs you’ve implanted in their heads?

Bakuda only laughs maniacally at me. _< You think you can just walk into MY workshop and get away with everything you want? I’ll show you!>_ “Oh, so the little hero wants to save everybody, does he? That’s not how it’s gonna fucking work. You know how many people I’ve got in the next room over? If you don’t want them to die, you better put me down right fucking now!”

_< Idiot froze me in place with my toe ring triggers touching. Which bomb should I select from the HUD?>_

Thank you. That’s all I need.

“What?”

I pull her gas mask off so she can’t choose a bomb to go off. It’s only a moment’s work to remove her toe rings as well, although it’s a bit tricky to do it without giving into the temptation to accidentally rip her toes off too.

Now, what traps and failsafes have you put into place?

_< How the fuck did he know about the mask? The rings?>_ “Fuck you!” _< If I don’t figure it out, he might find out about the dead man’s switch and the bombs planted around the city, too—>_

Bombing the city I live in is definitely not allowed. Let’s start with the bomb you’ve planted by the town hall.

She flinches — or rather, tries to flinch. The psychic hold I have on her is too tight to allow her to do much more than twitch. The whites of her eyes shine in the light. “How the fuck did you know about that? Have you been spying on me?!” In her mind, memories: braiding wires together, fingers flying across a keyboard, the texture of dirt on her palms as she brushes soil over her lovingly made creation. I note the information down, before moving on to question her about the bomb by the water tower. “What? I never fucking told you about that! How the hell—”

Humans think in associations. They can’t help it. Insert a thought into their heads, and they’ll respond to it, conjuring up related thoughts, especially if the context and situation is right. Bakuda is panicking; her mind straying to all the bombs she’s planted around the city, how she made them, how she connected the bombs to her detonator. Each thread is another lead for me to follow. Once I abandon subtlety, it’s easy to steer other people’s thoughts where I want them to go; send the right prompts, and the right information will show up. Bakuda has noticed something strange by now, trying to calm down and clear her mind, but the adrenaline and fear is working against her. A small nudge from me is enough to send her mind racing again, straight down the paths I’ve chosen for her.

Once I’ve looted all the information from her mind that I want, I turn my back to Bakuda. A twitch of the fingers to touch her rings together, a gesture to levitate the mask to me, and I lift my own mask and glasses off to blink instructions at Bakuda’s mask until I’ve seen the names of the bombs Bakuda has placed around the city.

With that, I’ll be able to find them with clairvoyance. I don’t need Bakuda for anything anymore. I drop her to the ground as I pull my glasses and mask back on, but even though I’ve released her, she doesn’t attack me. She doesn’t try anything else.

Instead, she lays on the ground staring at me, a dark fear gripping her from the inside out. _< Powerful telekinesis,>_ she’s thinking. _< Understanding of Tinker powers. Mind-tampering.>_ An image of an inhumanly symmetrical face, in perfect, luminescent beauty.

“What are you,” she rasps, “the fucking Simurgh?”

I knock her out.

Geez. Don’t go around making dangerous comparisons like that. Just because I’m a telekinetic telepath who can tap into your Tinkering knowledge doesn’t mean I’m on the level of being called an “Endbringer.” I’ll admit that I’ve seriously thought about destroying humanity before, but I was young and foolish back then. I don’t think like that now.

In any case, it’s time to wrap things up.

For some reason, Bakuda doesn’t have a lot of spare paper lying around in her workshop. You’d think that the mad scrawlings of an inventor would be part of the ambience for any halfway decent genius’ workspace, but no. I’m forced to rip paper out of my school notebooks to make do. Using thoughtography, I record an explanation of Bakuda’s deeds, the bombs she’s left around the city, her dead man’s switch, and the details of how to use her rings, mask, and HUD navigation. With that, anyone who investigates should be able to use her equipment to track down and disable all her bombs, even the ones in people’s heads.

Next, I erase Bakuda’s memories of the most obvious moments of mind-reading. For those of you who aren’t familiar, in order to erase someone’s memories, I have to deliver a strong blow to their head. Of course, what’s strong for me is also much stronger than what a normal person can withstand, so my strong blow would almost certainly knock someone’s head clean off. That’s why I have to use my restoration ability on their body at the same time I hit their head. It’s an annoying process, and for that reason I don’t use it often, but I don’t want Bakuda going off and making Simurgh comparisons when she wakes up in jail. That would just draw way too much unnecessary attention to my actions here today, and knowing my luck, it would snowball into something immensely irritating.

Lastly, I turn my attention to a certain shard.

**_< Shard:Detonation:<PROCESS_INPUT>>_ **

It’s been gathering data about me and the fight this whole time, and even if no one else seems aware of these shards, I’m not risking it. However, knocking out Bakuda and erasing some of her memories doesn’t seem to have done anything to the shard’, so I can only resort to this next measure. I compress information in a rough approximation of the shards’ communication format, and broadcast.

**< COMMAND>  
**(Translation for the readers: _Keep quiet about what just happened._ )

The shard’s thoughts stutter for a moment, before it rallies itself.

**_ <Shard:Detonation:<QUERY>> _** _(Who are you? What’s your designation? Where did your message come from? I can’t sense you.)_

Seems I didn’t quite format the message correctly. Let’s try again.

**_< Shard:PSI:<IMPATIENCE>> _ ** _(That’s not important. Just delete the data you just collected.)_

**_< Shard:Detonation:<OPPOSITION>>_**   
_(Our objective is to gather information. You haven’t issued the proper access codes to override that command. And I can’t locate you in the Shardspace to check you have the authority to issue such a command either, so I don’t have to listen to you.)_

Unfortunately for you, by thinking about what protocols and commands I’ve skipped over, you’ve handed me the key. Better luck next time.

**_< Shard:PSI:<OVERRIDE>>_ **

**_< Shard:Detonation:<PROTEST>>_ **

**_< Shard:Detonation:<COMPLY>>_ **

The shard reluctantly erases the data it just gathered about me. Ha. I still don’t know what these shards are, exactly, but now that I’ve snagged this “administrative access,” I don’t have to worry about them anymore. My path to a peaceful, uninterrupted life has one less obstacle in its way.

I prop up Bakuda’s unconscious body across the hall from the room where the conscripts are, and put the stack of papers — plus the mask and rings — to her side. Outside the apartment door… Huh. Masangkay is gone, and I don’t hear him within range either. He must’ve woken up and left while I was taking care of Bakuda. Well, at least that leaves me free to kick the enforcers’ bodies out the door. Just before I leave the building myself, I pull open the door to the conscripts’ room with my telekinesis.

The people inside are uncertain and afraid, at first, but with a bit of telepathic prompting, they get moving. After reading the papers and realizing someone has taken down Bakuda for them, some of them start tying up Bakuda while others call the PRT and the local police.

They should be able to handle everything from here.

Now that that’s done, I have an afternoon to kill. Maybe I’ll go buy a cellphone like I originally planned…

Ah, wait, I undid my transformation just now. I don’t regret it, but I’ll have to spend two hours transforming before I can go out in public again. This is why impulsive decisions don’t pay off.

Well, it’s fine, I guess I’ll just do all my shopping tomorrow. I have schoolwork to finish and books to read anyway.

It only takes a moment’s thought to teleport back home.

——

I spend Friday afternoon after school using my hard-earned casino winnings to buy a prepaid cellphone and an electrical generator. My days at the public library are paying off at last, too: all the research I’ve done has given me enough know-how to hook up the generator for my house. Finally, proper electricity. I was getting tired of using my pyrokinesis to light up the place at night.

By the time I’ve finished charging the generator with my electrokinesis and set up my cellphone, it’s evening. I’ve done so much hard work this week I think I deserve a reward. I still have money left over from gambling, right? I think I’ll go out to eat.

I choose a fairly Japanese restaurant on the Boardwalk. The food is somewhat nostalgic. It doesn’t quite have the taste of my mom’s homemade cooking, but nonetheless, it’s not bad… I should hurry up and get a job so I can expand the supplies in my kitchen.

Goal decided for the next week, I pay the bill and leave the restaurant. I think I’ll get something sweet for dessert, too. It’s been a while since I’ve had any coffee jello. I don’t know if they have any here in alternate dimension America, but they must have something.

I’ll go ahead scan through the thoughts of everyone nearby to find a good shop. If I’m going to spend my money, I want to make sure what I get is worth the price… Hm? Wait, isn’t that—?

Hebert steps around the corner with a group of friends, makes eye contact with me, and comes to a stop. “Oh! Saiki!” she says, her voice in a higher register than usual. “I — didn’t expect to see you here!”

Just great. In a crowded place such as the Boardwalk, it’s so noisy with all the people talking and thinking that I don’t pay as much attention to everyone in the surroundings as I should. As a result, I didn’t notice Hebert until just now.

_< His expression looks more sour than usual. Is he upset? — Oh no, I forgot that—>_

“I’m so sorry about missing out on the work for our Parahuman Studies project,” Hebert says. “I was just — well, there’s no excuse, but…”

“Hey, no big, it’s been a rough week,” says the girl next to her. “Saiki, right? I’m Lisa. I hope you won’t be too hard on Taylor, the past few days have been full of ups and downs.”

Hebert guiltily thinks about … robbing a bank yesterday afternoon with her companions, apparently. I thought your absence would be plot-important but that’s quite an escalation from the quiet loner thing you’ve got going on at school. I suppose I shouldn’t talk, though, since I spent yesterday afternoon cleaning up Bakuda’s mess. Between the two of us we could give each other a good run for the money of who fits the phrase “it’s always the quiet ones” better.

_< He’s just looking at me flatly without saying anything, I can’t tell if he’s judging me or not… Ah!>_ “Did you — did you still want to study tomorrow? At the library?” Hebert says uncertainly.

One of the boys next to her laughs. “You made plans to study on a Saturday? Dork.”

“Nothing wrong with that. Being studious is a good thing,” says the other boy in mild reproach.

It seems Hebert has found herself some friends, even if they are minor villains. Good for her. And since the Barnes problem should be taken care of soon enough, too, there’s no need for me to stick around. This is the perfect opportunity to act hurt and sever all connection. I bow just low enough not to be rude as greeting, but with my usual expressionless face, Hebert is doubting how genuine it is. _< Did I mess up? No, what am I thinking, of course he would be upset after I left him to finish the project on his own.>_ Perfect. With that achieved I’ll leave right away.

“We were just about to get dessert,” the girl next to Hebert says with a foxy smile. “Wanna come with? We’ll pay; consider it an apology for stealing her away this week.”

...I’ll leave right away after getting dessert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: the Undersiders and a bit of what Saiki's missed, since he's been simply minding his own business. Sort of.
> 
> **Q.** Why the serious take on Saiki's relationship with his brother?  
>  **A.** I still think they are very funny and I love it a lot but when I think about their relationship too hard it is actually a little bit fucked up and once I started realizing I could not stop realizing.
> 
> Sorry this chapter was not as funny as the others but I hope it was interesting enough to make up for it. I constantly feel like I’m still in the set-up stages of this fic… it’s probably going to be about another chapter or two before we move away from Saiki’s daily life into much-anticipated (at least on my part) completely unrecognizable territory.
> 
> As always, if you enjoyed the chapter, please drop a comment letting me know what you liked. Having engaged readers is a big motivator for me to keep writing.
> 
> **CITATIONS**  
>  Saiki using his telepathy to:
>
>> 1) give a sense of foreboding — Ch. 43, 91.  
> 2) imitate someone’s inner thoughts / act as someone’s inner conscience — Volume 0 telepathy, Ch. 164, the chapter where Chiyo goes on a weight-loss exercise regime  
> 3) see what someone else is imagining — throughout the series, he can see other people’s flashbacks and such, but off the top of my head there’s a concrete example in Episode 1 and Ch. 169.  
> 4) sound like he’s talking out loud, as himself — basically the whole series.  
> 5) send someone dreams — Ch. 181.  
> 6) insert and interfere with others’ thoughts — Ch. 21, 91.  
> 7) sound like someone else - Ch. 91.  
> 8) impair someone’s thinking — Ch 91.  
> 9) manipulate someone’s mind (separate from mind control) — Ch 105.
> 
> Basically he can do a lot. I will be freely using and expanding on the implications of these abilities.  
> Saiki having thought about seriously destroying humanity: Volume 0 telepathy 


End file.
